


For the Love of a Brother

by FingolfinSilme



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alienation, Brotherhood, Brothers, Distance, Friendship, Hate, Laurelin, Love, Multi, Step family - Freeform, Telperion, Valinor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-30
Updated: 2018-01-30
Packaged: 2019-03-11 13:41:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13525458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FingolfinSilme/pseuds/FingolfinSilme
Summary: Fëanor’s relation with his little half-brother Fingolfin has always been tumultuous but his temper reached breaking point as he tried to step away from his step family.





	For the Love of a Brother

“And Fëanor, take your brother with you,” Indis called out from the staircase as she disappeared behind her bedroom door.

“Half-brother,” the ellon muttered as hestepped outside.

It was past midday and the light of Telperion was already waning. Fëanor had spent the morning writing in his notebook but was getting bored and could find no more inspiration. With his father busy, he had had to ask his stepmother if he could take a walk in the gardens. How ironical that he had to ask her for permission.

“Fingolfin!!!!!” He called out half-heartedly, hoping that the little idiot had fallen into the river and drowned.

To his dismay, however, he heard a squeal and, as he turned around, felt a solid weight thumping into him. He nearly fell backwards but being much taller, managed to stand his ground.

“Fëa!!! Look, Nana showed me how to do the dance!” Fingolfin exclaimed.

“Oh, wow, big deal,” Fëanor rolled his eyes at his brother as the latter held out his hand to dance with him. “Um...remember what I said, we’re not supposed to touch each other.”

Fingolfin pouted and let his arm fall limply to his side but quickly looked up again with a smile. “Did you want to see me?” He asked, eyes wide and mouth opened into a grin.

“I didn’t want to. Your mother is making me take you for a walk,” Fëanor snapped, starting down the path heading towards the forest. Maybe if he could ´accidentally’ lose him in the woods…

“You know, Ada says that my Nana is also your Nana,”

“Well, maybe I don’t want her to be.” Fëanor dug his hands deep into the pockets of his tunic and strode down the path.

Fingolfin had to run to follow but he does not mind; spending time with his big brother seemed better than anything else. “But why?” He asked innocently.

“It doesn’t concern you,” Fëanor growled. He stared at his feet as he walked, bitterly remembering the times when he could take a walk without meaningless babbling interfering with his thoughts.

Fingolfin made to answer but as he saw Fëanor’s dark glare, he closed his mouth and walked in silence for a while. After entering the forest, the trail steepened and climbed through the trees towards the top of the hill. The path was treacherous for roots and rocks stuck out unexpectedly from the earth. Fingolfin, paying no mind to the obstacles on the path, suddenly broke into a run.

“I bet I can run quicker than you!!!” He called out delightedly, turning his head to see his brother’s reaction. As he faced the front again, however, his foot got caught in a branch larger than the others which sent him flying through the air. He landed on the ground a few feet away.

Fëanor, who was not planning on racing a baby like his half-brother, had kept walking at the same steady pace, eyes riveted on the ground. Yet, when he heard a cry and the sound of sobbing, he looked up quickly to see Fingolfin weeping on the ground, hands clutching at his bloody knee. 

Despite the scepticism he usually showed the younger Elf, his heart skipped a beat as he saw him crying and wounded. He rushed forward and kneeled down beside him.

“Hey, it’s okay, don’t cry. It’s nothing, just a scratch.” He pulled off Fingolfin’s hand to see how badly injured he was. At seeing the amount of blood that was streaming from his knee, he started chewing his lip worriedly. “Come on, I’ll get you home,” he continued, not losing any of his wonted confidence as he lifted his little brother into his arms.

Fingolfin held his brother right, silent tears still streaming down his cheeks. “Fëa, are they going to cut my leg off?” He asked, looking up at him with wide, cornflower blue eyes.

“Of course not,” Fëanor replied, taking up his usual scornful tone. “You’re going to get a bandage and then it’ll be fine.”

Fingolfin fell silent for a moment. They were nearly in sight of their home. “Thanks for helping me,” he said at last in a small voice.

Fëanor shrugged but his eyes turned sorrowful. When finally they reached the door to the halls, he pushed it open with his foot and stepped in. Indis, at hearing them coming in, had craned her neck from the living room to see what they were up to. When she saw that her son was in Fëanor’s, she stood up quickly and rushed to meet them. 

“Oh, my baby! What happened to you?!” She exclaimed, taking the ellon in her arms and carrying him to the bathroom.

Fëanor stood motionless in the lobby, watching as his stepmother fussed over her precious son. She looks up, obviously panicked as she is looking for something. 

“Don’t Just stand there! Get me some bandage!” She cried out, waving her arms all over the place to try and get his attention and calm Fingolfin at the same time.

Just as Fëanor made for the kitchen, Finwë stepped into the room. “What is going on in here?!” He exclaimed, looking from his wife to his son and back again.

Before Fëanor could speak, Indis started speaking really fast, as if she was afraid someone would steal her baby away. “Your son took Fingolfin out for a walk and now look at him! Oh, my baby!” She pulled the ellon close to her chest and kissed his forehead. “He claims to be responsible but he can’t take care of his own brother!”

Finwë looked down at his eldest son and frowned. “Fëanor, how many times do I have to tell you to take care of your younger brother?”

Fëanor opened wide eyes, outraged. “What?! I never asked to have him sticking with me all the time! Why should he be my responsibility?!”

Finwë shook his head. “You will be King one day, my son. You must start understanding what this means and-”

“He just fell!!!” Fëanor screamed, cutting his father off. “He fell and it’s my fault!!! Because it always is!” With this, he whipped around, ran up the stairs and slumped down on his bed after slamming the door.

He pulled his knees up to his chest and buried his face in his pillow. He felt his eyes well up with tears but he did not care anymore. He threw his pride away when he was alone.

“Nana, please forgive me. I promised you I would be strong but I’m not. I’m sorry,” he whispered between sobs.

“I’m sure that if your Nana could see you, she’d be very proud of you,” came a sheepish voice.

Fëanor looked up, eyes red and puffed with crying. He couldn’t help a blush from spreading across his cheeks as he saw Fingolfin sitting cross-legged on the bed beside him. They stared at each other in silence for a long while. Eventually, Fingolfin reached out and laid a small hand on his big brother’s arm. As Fëanor started crying again, Fingolfin shifted and moved closer, wrapping his arms around him. “You’re not alone, Fëa. I’ll be there for you,” he whispered.

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own any of the characters, places or names mentioned in this story. It was inspired by a piece of fanarymt I found on 78.media.tumblr.com


End file.
